by Jann Rowland
“You are your father’s son, for he was as stubborn as you.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Lady Catherine. To be compared to my father is high praise, indeed.”
Lady Catherine’s visage softened. “He was an exemplary man, your father, and he made my sister happy, though he was, perhaps, a little stiff. For that, I will always esteem and respect him.
“But I insist on being satisfied. I will speak to Miss Elizabeth. You may accompany me if you wish. But you shall not deter me from my course.”
“Then I shall go,” replied Darcy, knowing it was fruitless to argue with her.
Chapter XX
A visitor arrived at Longbourn late that afternoon, long after normal visiting hours had ended by any measure. The way the colonel entered the room Elizabeth might have suspected him of hesitance. Seated as Elizabeth was in the sitting-room with her mother and sisters, she noted at once he glanced about as if searching for someone, and thought she knew what he was about.
“Mrs. Bennet,” said he, turning his attention on her mother at once, “I apologize, for I know this is an intrusion at an unconventional time. Please accept my assurances I would not come except at the direst of need.”
Elizabeth’s mother, who had risen at the colonel’s entrance, understood his meaning at once. With a nod, she turned to her youngest daughters and sent them from the room, saying: “Mary, perhaps you would take your sisters to the other parlor. They would both benefit from some of your instruction on the pianoforte.”
With a nod, Mary rose and guided Kitty and Lydia to the other part of the house. The younger girls, while they looked back with open curiosity and wished to stay, did as their mother asked, leaving Elizabeth with Jane and her mother in the colonel's company. Her youngest daughters now out of the way, Mrs. Bennet fixed Colonel Fitzwilliam with a questioning look.
“Should I have Mr. Bennet summoned?”
“That would be for the best,” replied the colonel.
Sitting when invited, Colonel Fitzwilliam waited while Mrs. Bennet called for Mrs. Hill and instructed her to request the master’s presence. Then her attention fell once more upon the colonel, who, noting the question in her gaze, clarified his errand.
“It seems Lady Catherine has made her appearance at Netherfield, though why she went to Netherfield rather than Longbourn, I cannot say. Darcy delayed her long enough to send word to me in Meryton, and I came at once as I promised. I expect them to arrive at any moment.”
Mrs. Bennet nodded with an absence of mind. “Do you know your aunt’s mood?”
The grin with which the colonel regarded her was more grim than amused. “Darcy did not have time to say, though I can guess.”
“Then what do you expect, Colonel?” asked Elizabeth.
“Fireworks,” was the man’s single word response.
“What sort of fireworks?”
They all looked up to see Mr. Bennet entering the room, an uncharacteristic seriousness about him.
Colonel Fitzwilliam spread his hands as if to disavow all knowledge of his aunt. “More of the same as usual, I should expect. Lady Catherine is nothing if not consistent. She has been touting this imaginary engagement between Darcy and her daughter for years now, never seeing reason, always intent upon carrying her point.”
“Mr. Darcy is not engaged to Lizzy,” said Mrs. Bennet.
“Given the attention he has been paying her, some of which Mr. Collins witnessed, there need not be an announced engagement for her to act.”
“Shall I bar her from the estate?”
Frowning at Mr. Bennet’s question, Colonel Fitzwilliam paused for a moment before shaking his head. “It would not be my recommendation to do so, Mr. Bennet, though you may act as you see fit. Though I see little chance of reasoning with her, all possibility will dissipate if you deny her the opportunity to state her objections. If we send her away her without allowing her to state her case, I cannot say what will happen.”
With a curt nod, Mr. Bennet said: “Then I shall allow it. But I will also make it clear to her that any misbehavior will prompt me to evict her.”
The barked laugh with which the colonel responded betrayed a hint of diversion at the notion. “That is likely for the best, Mr. Bennet. Lady Catherine has not been known for her ability to remain temperate; the threat of removal might induce her to moderate her words.”
At that moment, the sound of a carriage reached their ears, and as one, their attention turned toward the windows. Jane rose and went to them, pulling the curtains aside and looking out, though she stepped away at once.
“A large chaise and four,” said she by way of explanation. “I cannot make out a crest, but it seems to be the possession of a person of wealth.”
“Lady Catherine,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. “It would be best to gird yourselves for battle.”
While Mr. Bennet shot the colonel a sardonic grin, the ladies resumed their seats, Mrs. Bennet directing Elizabeth and Jane to sit close to her. A glance at her mother told Elizabeth all she needed to know of her mother’s determination. Elizabeth smiled, signifying her readiness to meet any challenge the lady presented, prompting a nod from her mother, though her posture did not change.
A moment later, they heard the sound of voices from the vestibule, a soft masculine voice Elizabeth knew belonged to Mr. Darcy, and a louder woman’s voice. Nothing of their words was audible, however, and soon the footsteps approaching the door signaled the imminent arrival, prompting the company to stand to receive them.
“If you please, mum,” said Mrs. Hill, looking none the worse for wear, “Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Mr. Darcy to see you.”
The gentleman preceded the lady into the room, likely by design, and the lady on his heels did not appear pleased. That first image of Lady Catherine, Elizabeth thought, would remain with her for the entirety of her acquaintance with her ladyship. She was tall for a woman, standing an inch or two taller than Jane, who was not a small woman. Draped about her was a dress of costly materials, over which she wore a pelisse, her feet clad with soft traveling boots. The cane in her hand was more an affectation than a need, Elizabeth thought, and it clacked against the tiles of the floor as she walked. As for the lady herself, she was, perhaps, ten years older than Mrs. Bennet, her hair a dark brown, showing strands of gray, her face long, dark, piercing eyes, and very little in the way of wrinkles or other signs of age. This was a woman to be reckoned with.
Before anyone could say a word, the lady caught sight of Colonel Fitzwilliam, eliciting an exclamation of surprise. “Fitzwilliam!” boomed she, her voice strong, with nary a hint of a waver. “What do you do here?”
“I am happy to see you too, Aunt Catherine,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, giving her a jaunty salute.
The lady’s eyes narrowed. “I am waiting, Fitzwilliam. Why are you here at Longbourn, of all places?”
“Perhaps you do not remember, Lady Catherine,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam, seeming to enjoy himself, “but I took command of a company of militia not long ago. That company is quartered in Meryton at present.”
“Yes, I remember your letter informing me of that much.” Lady Catherine nodded her approval. “I see you have seen sense; your mother was worried when news of your injury reached her. It is time you stopped playing soldier and took up the management of your estate, for the possibility of being called to active duty was causing us all concern.”
“For the present, I believe I am in no danger,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam. Then a devilish grin fell over his countenance, and he added: “Unless it is from sleepless nights, lamenting the inability of my regiment to march in a line or their ability to shoot straight. From that last, I may be in more danger than if I stood against the entire French army!”
The entire company laughed, and even Lady Catherine chuckled and shook her head. The colonel grinned as if he had accomplished what he set out to do. Elizabeth thought it likely he had, for he was a jolly man, one who understood the efficacy of alleviating
tension with a well-placed joke.
“Yes, well,” said Lady Catherine, “perhaps it would be best if you stood behind these recruits of yours.”
“I shall take your advice under consideration, Lady Catherine,” replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.
With a nod, Lady Catherine fixed her gaze upon the Bennet family, seeming to catalog every detail about each one. Elizabeth returned Lady Catherine’s regard with an undaunted air, something the lady noted, if the tightness around her mouth when she looked away was any indication.
“Which of your daughters, Mrs. Bennet, is Miss Elizabeth?”
The lady spoke her question in a calm, but firm tone, one which demanded response. The response she was to receive, however, was not to her liking, for Mrs. Bennet did not answer the question.
“I beg your pardon, Lady Catherine,” said Mrs. Bennet, standing straight, “but if your purpose is to abuse my daughter, then it would be best if you leave.”
“Where is your civility, Mrs. Bennet?” demanded Lady Catherine. Elizabeth did not think anyone had ever denied her ladyship in such a manner—or at least someone she considered lower than herself had not.
“We offer civility, your ladyship, to those who return it. As you must be aware, we know of the reason for your coming. I understand your position in society and your interest in my daughter, but I will not allow attacks against her.”
“My wife is correct, Lady Catherine,” interjected Mr. Bennet, stepping forward, though fixing Mrs. Bennet with a warm smile. “Because of the respect I hold for your nephews, I will allow you to make your point. I require civility, however; as Mrs. Bennet says, I do not wish to allow an argument or open impugning of my daughter’s character. If we agree on this much, then we shall proceed. If not, it is best to desist at once. I should hate to feel it necessary to remove a lady of your obvious standing from my house.”
The notion of being escorted from the estate did not sit well with Lady Catherine, but Mr. Darcy’s cleared throat drew her attention when she might have retorted. Though not without a scowl, Lady Catherine nodded and said:
“I know not what my nephews have said of me, but I do not attack, nor do I behave without civility, Mr. Bennet. If you require my assurance, I shall give it without hesitation. But you must allow me to address these rumors which my parson brought to me, for there are concerns which I must make known to you.”
“Thank you for your assurance, Lady Catherine,” said Mr. Bennet. “Then let us sit and speak. Mrs. Bennet, shall you call for tea?”
With a nod, Mrs. Bennet gave the order to Mrs. Hill, who stood waiting in the door. Then when the door was closed and they were all seated, Mr. Darcy introduced the Bennets to Lady Catherine’s acquaintance. The way her ladyship’s eyes lingered on Elizabeth caused her a moment of concern. She said nothing at once, however, betraying, instead, a contemplation Elizabeth might not have expected.
“I am surprised, Darcy,” said Lady Catherine, her eyes darting to where her nephew sat. “I might have thought you would have preferred Miss Bennet to her sister.”
Mr. Darcy did not ask why. “Miss Bennet is a lovely young woman, but my friend Bingley holds her heart. They became engaged only two days ago.”
“Then I offer my congratulations, belated though they may be,” said Lady Catherine, nodding at Jane. “Though I have spoken but little with Mr. Bingley, my nephews’ testimony suggests he is a good man, though his descent is a little unfortunate. With a gentleman’s daughter for a wife, his position in society shall be raised accordingly.”
It was a bit of civility Elizabeth might not have expected, both the congratulations and the lady’s understanding of the benefits of the engagement. Jane murmured her thanks, to which Lady Catherine nodded, and then turned her attention to Elizabeth.
“Miss Elizabeth, I have heard from Mr. Collins that you have thrown yourself with no hint of shame at my nephew, intending to entrap him.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth, intending to refute such a ridiculous charge, and noticed both her mother and father and the lady’s two nephews engaged in the same. But her ladyship was the first to speak again.
“I shall not injure you by believing his account as he gave it to me. At the same time, I cannot believe Mr. Collins is capable of creating such a story out of whole cloth. Mr. Collins is not the most sensible of men—this I will own, I have not known him, however, to possess vicious tendencies—overzealous would be nearer the mark, I should think. Be that as it may, I wish to know what has happened between you and my nephew. Will you oblige me?”
The unexpected civility in Lady Catherine’s manner surprised Elizabeth, as it did her nephews. Given her measured words, Elizabeth decided there was no reason to refuse to respond, though it was not, in the strictest sense, any of Lady Catherine’s concern.
“As you expected, Lady Catherine, I have not thrown myself at your nephew. Though I will acknowledge my position in society is nowhere near as exalted as yours, I do know how to behave.”
“Then what my parson said of you is without foundation?”
“In that sense, it is not.” Elizabeth paused, considering what she should say, deciding she had best be open with the lady. “I shall not dissemble, Lady Catherine. I enjoy your nephew’s company and have since I first made his acquaintance. Having said that, I am no Jezebel; I do not fawn over him, throw myself in his arms, or attempt to compromise him. As a woman, I am restricted to giving gentlemen hints of my regard. It is up to Mr. Darcy, however, to determine whether he wishes to pursue a closer connection with me, and I have never attempted to force his hand.”
Lady Catherine, it appeared, was impressed by her response. The tender look from Mr. Darcy showed his own approval, and Elizabeth had never felt more certain he would come to the point than she did at that moment.
Their brief interaction did not miss Lady Catherine’s attention either, for she directed a glance at both in turn, a slight frown marring her countenance. When she turned back to Elizabeth, she thought it was with a little softer mood, though it was possible she was mistaking the woman’s manners.
“You speak well, Miss Elizabeth. That is a relief, for I would not wish to converse with someone who cannot string two words together. What you say is correct. What you may not know is that my nephew is already spoken for. Were you aware of that?”
Mr. Darcy opened his mouth to speak, but Lady Catherine raised a hand intended to silence him. Elizabeth shot him a look, informing him of her willingness to answer the question; Mr. Darcy subsided, though the way he looked at his aunt teemed with displeasure.
“There are two things I should like to point out, Lady Catherine: the first is that I am not engaged to Mr. Darcy, and the second is that I have it from Mr. Darcy’s own mouth that he is not engaged. I would not wish to intrude upon a previous understanding.”
Lady Catherine turned a displeased eye on Mr. Darcy. “You have spoken of this matter to those who are not members of the family?”
“Why would you be surprised I would speak of it?” asked Mr. Darcy. “It is well known in society that you wish for the match, though I have not contradicted it. With Miss Elizabeth, however, I did not wish her to misunderstand my actions, particularly when your parson spoke of it himself. His imprudence would leave me appearing like a cad at best—a bigamist at worst.”
Once again, the lady’s lips became a thin line. “You may be assured I shall speak to Mr. Collins on this subject.”
“If you did not trumpet the matter for everyone to hear, he would not have felt obliged to speak up.”
The lady had the grace to appear abashed. Mr. Darcy, however, was not finished.
“Lady Catherine, I would urge you to desist and speak no more of this cradle engagement. Though I will not presume to speak for Anne, I have no wish to marry her, and given her behavior with me, I do not believe she wishes to marry me either. That is the salient point, is it not?”
“I suppose it must be, though I will say that I do not appreciate the lack of
respect of the younger generation.”
Lady Catherine huffed and turned back to Elizabeth.
“You are yet full young, are you not, Miss Elizabeth?”
“I am not yet one and twenty,” replied Elizabeth.
“And your standing in society? Have you had a season in London?”
“Though I have attended certain events, I have not had a season.”
“You have not curtseyed before the queen?”
“No, your ladyship.”
Pursing her lips, the lady regarded Elizabeth. “And what of your accomplishments? Do you play the pianoforte?”
“I do, well enough,” replied Elizabeth, by now becoming diverted by the lady’s manner. “It might be beneficial if I practiced more, but I do well enough.”
“That is true,” said Lady Catherine. “No true skill is acquired without practice. And what of other accomplishments? Do you sing? Paint? Can you sew and embroider?”
Elizabeth replied, indicating an affirmative to the first and last two, but denying the second; Kitty was the only Bennet sister who had any artistic ability. For several moments Lady Catherine continued to ask after Elizabeth’s accomplishments, dispensing advice as she went. Elizabeth answered as honestly as she could, noting with some interest where the lady seemed to think she was acceptable, and where deficient. It was apparent that Mr. Darcy was becoming annoyed with the inquisition, and after the gentleman cleared his throat for the second time, Lady Catherine nodded and sat back, regarding Elizabeth.
“It seems, Miss Elizabeth, that you are well-spoken for one so young, though I will own you have a tendency to express your opinions in a decided fashion. You are a genteel, pretty sort of girl, as are your mother and sister, which bodes well for your future. I hope you do not consider my questions officious, for I do not intend to cast aspersions on you.
“The fact of the matter is that you have been little in society, so you cannot understand the attitudes of those of the level my family inhabits. I would not injure you by supposing you are incapable of standing up for yourself, for that appears to be untrue. I will, however, warn you that you will be the target of those looking for any perceived weakness, anything they can do to exploit that to your detriment, and that of my family.”
